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Contrary to popular belief, there are a number of things that scare Batman. Bat’s for example were pretty high on his list of feared things despite appearances (Ironic he knows, but he still can’t stand them to this day). A more common fear was the Joker, no, not (just) of the man himself – for he was just that, a man (if a little lot more insane than your average Joe). But rather what the Joker represented; his fears of losing, of not being enough, his fear of his mistakes causing irreparable harm to someone he loved. Despite how he may try to hide it, Batman was just like everyone else. He could be afraid.
The difference between Batman and more people, however, was that Batman, when faced with his fear chose to ignore it, he chose to power through, turning the things that keep him up at night into something good. He used his fears of inadequacy and abandonment as fuel to power his righteous fists of justice, he used his fear of the joker’s unpredictability to help tune his deductive abilities and taught himself the strength of preparedness. He harnessed his fear of bats and quite literally turned it into an armour of protection.
So yes, Batman was human and afraid of things just like everyone else, but he was still Batman, so a little thing like fear never slowed him down….
Usually…
You see, contrary to his usual actions in the face of daunting, uncertain and often perilous situations Batman was frozen in fear at this very moment. He had just returned home after a long night of patrol; the night had been tougher than usual, and he found himself missing Robin more and more as it crept closer to dawn. His partner had a way of making Gotham seem less dark (and the night less long) even when they were up against ridiculous odds. Unfortunately Dick was grounded as he had recently injured himself – no, not on patrol or even on a mission with ‘the team’ as you surely must be thinking but instead due to an unfortunate accident involving his young ward, various (fragile and usually priceless) pieces of furniture that were most definitely not supposed to be moved, and a rather boring (or so he had been told, at length on the ride to the hospital – Bruce hadn’t thought it was all that boring especially since Selena had decided to make an appearance) dinner party.
So understandably, Batman had not been in the best of moods, getting home from such a long and torturous night of patrol. Realistically, given that it was almost 5 in the morning all he had wanted to do at this point was catch his 3 glorious hours of sleep before he had to be up and ready for the day. So he had written out his ridiculously detailed post-patrol report as quickly as possible and promised himself that he would go over it during nap time. Satisfied with his work Bruce had started to undress, so unbelievably ready for his post patrol shower, he had felt himself begin to relax when the first scream of horror echoed down the stairs and through the cave. The billionaire felt his body spurn into action as he ran half dressed up the stairs, his mind already started to run through his plan of attack.
It was only once he had burst into the upstairs lounge room eyes scanning the room for threats but finding none – even pausing to take a moment to process as he registered the ongoing screams of horror yet the lack of intruder. He opened his mouth to alert his children to his presence – as the only one who seemed to acknowledge him was Cassandra, perched in her usual place on top of the ornate cabinet Alfred stored the ‘priceless china’( which apparently differed greatly from the ridiculously expensive china that could be found in the kitchen) – when the scene actually dawned on him and he froze right there in the middle of the door way, crippled by fear. Alfred was going to kill him.
Tim screamed louder than before as Dick (still oblivious to Bruce’s presence) swore loudly trying (and failing) to initiate some damage control.
“Timmy, please don’t cry. Dami didn’t mean it. And really, it’s not that bad, I think the white really brings out your eyes” His oldest son tried to console his sobbing brother to no avail.
“No. He did it on purpose. He hates me!” Tim declared dramatically twisting around to point an accusing finger at the youngest Wayne to dramatically emphasis his outrage and betrayal in a way only a six year could.
Damian to his credit (mouth full and drooling around a horrifying amount of sugary balls of white fluff) laughed off the accusation, and tried to hi five Tim, eliciting a strangled scream from Tim as the toddler – who had pushed himself forward a little too abruptly in his enthusiasm – toppled over the couch and onto the older boy.
It was then that Jason appeared holding a large pink packet triumphantly in one hand as he strode into the room from the kitchen door.
“Dickky I found more marshmallows, we can finish the game” Jason grinned, throwing the packet in the air before he noticed Bruce frozen in the opposite doorway “Oh shit. It wasn’t me. It was all Dickky he made us do it” his ten year old son tattled barely taking a breath as he held his hands up in guilty surrender trying to look innocent.
The bag of marshmallows came down abruptly at that moment as gravity did it’s job, landing with a soft thud against Jason’s head before it rolled onto the floor. Jason barely flinched as he – with all the subtly of a ten year old – took a step forward to try and hid the sugary treats from his father’s view.
“What is going on here” Bruce growled with maybe just a little too much Batman in his tone ( if his children’s reactions were anything to go by).
“Dabwey” Damian crowed gleefully, his words slightly muffled due to the gooey sugary fluff that still filled his mouth. His eyes lit up as he attempted to crawl over to his father only to be stopped by Tim’s loud yell.
Damian frowned, looking over to where his hand (which was apparently covered, like the rest of him in gooey marshmallow) was stuck to Tim’s head. The toddler pulled his hand again, Tim yelled again, Damian pulled, Tim yelled, Damian yelled half garbled and angry as he tried yet again to free his hand, Tim yelled once again grabbing a hold of the offending hand trying to stop Damian from ripping his hair out. Damian cried. Tim cried. Cassandra watched from her perch clearly confused as Dick silently pleaded for Bruce to step in and fix everything and Jason tried to discretely (it wasn’t working) hid the marshmallow packet down his pants whilst everyone was distracted.
Bruce wished he was out fighting the Joker instead.
“Okay, everyone stop.” Bruce commanded loudly, temporarily halting the tears and inhuman wails coming from his youngest children out of shock. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth (Although honestly in any other situation he would totally do just that because he’s Batman) Bruce made his way through the practically trashed living room, covered in sticky clumps of sugar and empty packets to knee in front of Tim.
“Dick go get me some hot water and a towel” He ordered as he began to slowly assess the damage.
It took almost two hours to get everyone clean, calm and tucked into bed once again (mostly due to Damian trying to share his marshmallow glob with everything and everyone around him before Bruce was able to take it away from him – which was a harder feat than one would think considering he was only 18 months old), the living room was still trashed but Bruce knew when to take the win. Usually he would have made the boys clean up their own mess, but he knew it was honestly beyond the abilities of a fourteen year old and a ten year old and he would probably have to call in the professionals later in the day.
Honestly all Bruce wanted to do at this point was sleep but tonight had been a disaster and he had to know why. Especially since Alfred had only left this morning to visit his sick aunt in England and Bruce had reassured the older man that he was more than equipped to look after his own children for a few days without assistance. He had thought everything had been running smoothly up until he had arrived home from patrol, he had the children washed, fed and bed well before he had left for the night and Dick was supposed to be his right hand man. He was old enough to know the rules and Bruce had trusted him to be in charge of his siblings. Obviously, he had overestimated Dick’s abilities, it hadn’t been fair for him to put so much responsibility on Dick’s shoulders. It was easy to forget that his oldest son, despite being competent out on the field, was still a kid; barely fourteen and Bruce was already trying to put the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He sighed knocking softly on his partner’s door before stepping into the room. Dick stopped mid-step as Bruce opened the room, obviously nervous.
“I’m so sorry” The young teen blurted out guiltily running a hand through his dark hair “B, I honestly didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand and I…”
“Breath Dick. I’m not going to lie, I am disappointed and angry – one of you could have been seriously hurt – but it was my fault too” Bruce admitted somewhat reluctantly.
“What? How?” Dick questioned immediately looking confused.
“I shouldn’t have left you kids unsupervised; I’ll get someone next…”
“NO” Dick protested immediately “No. B, I can do this I promise. If I’m old enough to be on the Team, then I’m more than old enough and capable of looking after the kids”
Bruce raised an eyebrow sceptically and Dick flushed embarrassed.
“Tonight was a fluke. Timmy started sleepwalking again and accidently ended up waking Dami and then as I was getting Babybat back to sleep Jaybird had a nightmare and started screaming so I had to wake him up but then everyone was awake and well neither you or Alfie were home so I thought we could watch tv but I let Jay pick which turned out to be a mistake because it was scarier than we thought so we had to knock it off but then none of us could go to sleep so we started watching some YouTube channels and came across the fluffy bunny challenge and found some marshmallows so me and Jay decided to try it but then Dami wanted to play too and got into the marshmallows and Cass just sorta appeared all ninja like out of nowhere and we…”
“Dicky. Breath. It’s alright” Bruce put a hand on his oldest son’s shoulder to calm him down.
“Truth is B, we were worried because we saw the news and you were out all alone and the news said there was a break out and because Alfie wasn’t here I couldn’t come help (‘and because you’re grounded until your arm heals’ Bruce interrupted lightly causing Dick to roll his eyes) and then you didn’t come home on time and we all just so worried so I thought we could all use a distraction. I swear I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand B. I didn’t…” Dick voice was muffled as he continued to talk into Bruce’s shoulder as the older man drew him into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry for worrying you chum. I’ll call next time and try to be home earlier.” Bruce ran a hand through Dick’s soft hair.
“Okay. Or I mean, you could come get me and I can help. We’re partner’s B.”
“We are. Go to bed Dicky. We’ll talk more in the morning” Bruce smiled as the teen tried to muffle a loud yawn.
“Okay. Night B.”
“Night” Bruce muttered as he exited the room, sparing a quick glance at his kid over his shoulder before he shut the door behind him.
Fear, Bruce decided as he made his way to his own room, did strange thing to us all. Hours ago, when he had heard that scream from the cave he hadn’t known what to think, but he had been scared. Scared of losing this tentative family he and Dicky had found together. He wasn’t alone anymore, sometimes it was so easy to forget that he had more people than just himself to think about. He wouldn’t… He couldn’t let these kids loose another parent.
Tomorrow he would do better. He would be better for his kids.
That is … after he hunted down and disposed of every marshmallow like item in the house… Obviously Alfred could never know what transpired whilst he was gone.